You Always
by AKA DD
Summary: 5 True Loves Challenge. Max finally gets the courage to find Zack again, say sorry and tell him that it was, You, always. MZack


**DISCLAIMER**: **Dark Angel does not belong to me. It's Cameron's. I just borrowed, even though I never really asked if I could.**

**A/N**: **Fic written for a challenge called _5 True Loves_. Where I pick one character from a certain fandom and pair that character with _5 True Loves_. Because there isn't just one path. Or so the slogan says. It's just a matter of how believable we can make different pairings, I guess. Well, I chose Max from Dark Angel. And obviously, this is Fic#1: MaxZack.**

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**FIVE TRUE LOVES #1: YOU ALWAYS**

"Adam?"

A tentative voice echoed through the barn, causing Adam Thompson to stop what he was doing. He cocked his head slightly to the left, where the barn door was. He could have just been hearing things.

Losing his memory in a truck accident had been one of the most devastating, yet strangely freeing, experiences in Adam's life. He had the chance to start over from scratch, and he knew that everyone around him was being very good about all of that.

It'd been six months. Six long months of nothing but strange nightmares. Nightmares that promptly disappeared the moment he woke up. There was only one thing that he remembered from his dreams and nightmares. A pair of sad brown eyes. He knew those eyes. But at the same time, he didn't.

He propped his pitchfork against the wall quietly and stalked out of the stall he had been in so he could take a quick peek at the barn door.

"Adam, are you here?" said the voice again, still no louder than a whisper. But this time, sounding quite familiar to his ears.

He still didn't answer, but instead hid in the shadows and watched as a beautiful, girl noiselessly walked into the barn, her expression slightly guarded, but hopeful. She had long dark hair that fell straight down her back, and a stunning sleek figure that was clearly outlined by the light that spilled into the barn from the door behind her.

Her shoulders were straight, her head cocked slightly to side, as if listening very intently. It reminded him of himself sometimes. Each step she took started out hesitant, but fell with purpose and surety. It was like she was looking for something, afraid of what she was going to find, but determined to see things through anyway.

Adam kept still, unsure why he did so. He just wanted to keep watching her for some reason. She fascinated him. He was sure she didn't live on the farm. Or anywhere nearby for that matter. He would have noticed her.

She was dressed all in black. Her pants were tight fitting, hugging her curves and accentuating the sleekness all at once. She wore a black tank top that afforded glimpses of her stomach, and exposing shoulders that were slightly broad and straight for a girl, though delicately boned. She had a well-worn black leather jacket bunched up in one hand. She also had on a pair of riding gloves, with her lean fingers sticking out.

She sighed heavily into the air, standing fifteen paces into the barn. Then she stood completely still.

Adam wondered what she was doing, and he felt a strange prickle in the back of his neck. The sensation that he was being hunted.

Suddenly, she swung her head towards his direction, and their eyes locked, as if she knew all along that he'd been standing there.

"Zack," she whispered, her voice fragile.

Adam blinked in surprise. _Zack?_

He took a step forward, into the light. She gasped slightly and started towards him. He held his ground, even though for some reason, everything inside of him urged him to run. Half of him wanted to run straight to her; the other half wanted to run away from her.

She stopped about five feet in front of him. And this time, it was his turn to gasp.

Her eyes. Those large, sad, brown eyes that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember.

"I know you," he remarked as casually as he could, despite the fact that his heart was beating erratically. "I've seen you before."

Her full lips made a small 'o' that he thought was quite attractive. In fact, he wanted to press his lips against those. They would be soft, and warm, and delicious. He bit his lower lip, surprised at the thoughts that had just flashed through him. Apparently, his body—his former self—knew and recognized her.

"You remember?" she asked tentatively.

He did. He remembered her eyes. Her lips. Her voice.

Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind's eye of a young girl with cropped dark hair. With those eyes, those lips, her voice. "Zack," said the girl in his memory.

Adam blinked. That was the first memory he had of anyone that he hadn't made on the farm in the last six months. He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips turning into a grim line. "Who are you?" he asked harshly.

Her face fell, her eyes became even darker, and her lips turned down into a slight pout. Strange, but to the eye of a stranger, her expression hadn't changed at all. But to him, he noticed everything. He wasn't a stranger to her, then.

"You don't remember," she sighed the statement. "That's okay." She smiled slightly, a sad little tilting of her lips upward. "My name's Max. I'm your sister."

Everything inside of Adam rebelled and recoiled at the thought of her as his sister. He stalked forward angrily, and started circling her like she was his prey. She stood completely still and let him look his fill at her.

The longer he looked at her, the more flashbacks he had. Of a little girl—Max—calling him Zack. Little Max in a little grey nightgown on a small bunk. Little Max in military fatigues doing military drills. Little Max with big, trusting, adoring eyes. Little Max—little sister. Maybe she was right.

The memories left him slightly breathless. She triggered so many of them. Like they had really grown up together. And every memory elicited a sense of warmth and love that nothing else on this farm had ever brought in him. "Little sister?" he asked warily.

Her pupils widened in surprise, a small twitch on her lips. Again, he noticed everything about her. It was disconcerting how he _knew_ her. "Big brother," she confirmed.

But still, why didn't he feel…_brotherly_…towards her? He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he realized that she looked nothing like him. He was blond and she had dark hair. He had blue-green eyes, and hers were the color of coffee. He had a face put together like geometry—all angles and planes, while hers was oval and soft around the edges. His body was strong and thick, she was long and slender. "We look nothing alike," he accused.

"Blood isn't what binds us, Big Brother," she whispered. "We grew up together."

"You're not my sister, then." He stated.

"I'm _family_."

And somehow, that sentiment felt absolutely right. He felt most of his tension drain away, as he subconsciously accept that as truth. "Max," he whispered.

Suddenly, like a flash of lighting that tore through his mind, memories, millions of them sparked to life in his head. He staggered back with a gasp, his hands shooting upwards to cradle his head, holding tightly. He was afraid his head was going to explode with the memories that were suddenly going through him like thousands of pictures per second.

Her arms came around him supporting him, and they both fell to their knees on the hay-covered barn floor.

They stayed like that for a long time. In silence.

Or at least, what he thought had been silence. He had been sobbing. All along he cried into his hands, and she was whispering, 'ssshhh' comfortingly.

He remembered everything.

His name was Zack. He was X5-599. He could recite his entire barcode, his designation, forwards and backwards. She was Max. X5-452. He could recite her barcode forwards and backwards from memory. There had been many of them. But few left.

They were from Manticore. Supersoldiers.

But he was no longer one. He was a broken soldier. He raised his head and looked directly into her eyes. His face was a blank mask. He hadn't worn this mask for six months, but it still came naturally.

"_How_ _could you?_" he seethed. He pushed her arms away from him and stood up briskly, and in a flash was several feet away from her. Suddenly, he understood why he was so much better at everything than all the other cowhands on the ranch. Why he was faster and stronger. Why he didn't feel tired, and why he always woke up first. Why he could remember a long string of instructions after only hearing them once. Why he picked up new skills like he'd been doing them all his life.

He had always thought it was because he had been nothing but a cowhand all his life.

Now he knew better.

"You stole my identity from me!" he accused, his tears drying up on his face, his blue-green eyes glittering like angry stones.

Max remained where she was, on her knees in front of him…stricken with guilt and pain, but also relieved that he remembered everything…ever more quickly than he had the first time she found him with the Steelheads.

She raised her eyes towards him, and her heart ached at the sight of him. He had always been the stronger one. Maybe the strongest one of them all. Yet, she had always been his weakness. Now was no exception.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," she whispered, knowing that even to herself, it wasn't a good enough excuse.

His face twisted into an angry sneer. "I sacrificed myself for you several times over, Max. I died for you…and you thought that taking away who I am was the _right_ _thing_?" His voice was soft and angry.

Max felt a small spark of anger light up in her. He was right about all of that. But she had done what had been for the best at the time. She slowly stood up, her eyes never leaving his. "Do you remember _why_ I _had_ to?" she challenged.

"I was going to kill your precious Logan," he intoned, his sarcasm clearly indicating what he thought of their relationship. "He's not even good enough for you to begin with…but he was also a traitor."

Max shook her head vigorously. "No!" she cried. "Zack, Manticore brainwashed you into thinking that!"

He shrugged. "I know…I remember, but that wasn't just Manticore."

"What do you mean?" She looked confused. She eyed him warily, noticing the clarity in his blue eyes, the relaxed set of his shoulders. Even the jaw seemed a little softer. Six months without worrying about his siblings; six months of just living everyday one day at a time seemed to have done him some good. It may have even smoothed out his harsher edges.

"I mean that he was a danger to you, Max," he said evenly. "Always had been. He was the one who contacted Lydecker about Ben, y'know. He was the one who sent Seth to his death, too."

Max swallowed heavily and looked away from him. "I know that now."

"You could have been next," he whispered, his voice suddenly not so void of emotion.

"How did you know? About Ben…and Seth?" she asked quietly.

Zack closed his eyes briefly. "I _remember_," he opened his eyes and smiled slightly at the word. "I remember breaking into his home one day and looking through his stuff. I never really hated him at first. But I did after I found out,"

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He cocked an arrogant brow at her. "And would you have listened, Baby _Sister_? Or tossed me on my ear like every other occasion I've tried to do right by you?" he mocked.

Max looked obstinate for a moment, as if she wanted him to be wrong. But he was right. She'd been blind when it came to Logan. She finally shrugged and sighed heavily. "You're right. I probably would have," she admitted. "I was blinded by his pretty words, his pretty ways…his supposed moral fiber. By everything. Worse, I let myself."

Zack shook his head in disappointment.

Max sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, that's over now."

He looked suspiciously at her, and Max smiled slightly. It was a look that Zack wore frequently. His beautiful eyes narrowed into angry slits, his full lips nothing but a thin line, his already hard jaw, tensed to granite, jutting forward. "What do you mean?"

"It means, I finally learned the truth. And I finally realized what an idiot I was. And I finally knew it was my turn to do right by you." She admitted quietly.

He took a deep breath and stared out into the light coming from the barn door. "Well…I guess my mission's accomplished,"

She frowned, placed hands on her hips. "What mission?"

But he didn't answer. Instead he just smiled sadly at her. "Now, it's like you said before, my new mission is to get a life."

He continued to stare out of the door, and it dawned on him that he wasn't home. Buddy and his wife and all the cowhands, they weren't his family. This farm—it wasn't his home. He suddenly, starkly realized that he was lost again.

He wondered briefly if it would have been better had she never came. If he could have lived all of his life never knowing…just being Adam Thompson and moving on with his life from where he had lost his memory.

But then, reality settled in. He couldn't have. Sooner or later, he'd have gone to town, or seen something that might have triggered his memories. And they might have been violent memories. He might have become violent.

No, Max was the perfect trigger.

Because he loved her.

He knew that with a certainty that had nothing to do with memory or the loss thereof. He had never forgotten his love of a girl, even if he had forgotten what she looked like. He had loved her. So, having her as a trigger, had eased him into his identity at a much less startling way.

Suddenly, he realized that her hand was in his, warm and comforting. He looked down at their joined hands, her fingers twined with his. She was looking earnestly into his eyes, and there was a look in there he had never seen so clearly before.

He had always seen glimpses of it, but she had been quick to hide. Now, he saw love in those eyes, and she wasn't running away or hiding.

"I was just wondering," she said softly, "if I was a part of this new mission…"

Zack smiled down at her, his free hand coming up to trace the soft outline of her beautiful face. "You're always a part of me, Maxie," he whispered. "Always."

Tears formed in her eyes, falling silently down her face. "Zack…I'm so sorry it took me this long," she whispered brokenly. "I was scared."

He brushed away a tear, a tenderness that he knew only came naturally when it was Max in his arms, rose in his chest. "It's okay,"

"I loved you always, you know," she said simply. "Even from when we were kids, it was always you. When I found you again that first time…and then you left me…I was so hurt and angry, that I made myself stop loving you. Because you would just leave me. I asked you to stay…but you still left."

He clenched his jaw. She was right. He had bound himself so tightly to his duty and mission he had had no room for anything else. Just as she had later bound herself so tightly to Logan.

"And later, I became angry. Because all you did was try to tell me what to do. I thought that you had no right, because you weren't even going to stay around. And then you…" she broke off, tears muffling her words. "…you died. And I knew I loved you. But when I found you again, alive…I was too ashamed. I _have your heart, _Zack! You _died_ for me! I didn't know if I could live with seeing that sacrifice everyday in your face…I was scared. You know how Manticore made us with iron wills…I just made myself not love you all over again. I sent you here, instead."

"So…did you?" he asked tentatively.

"Did I what?"

"Stop loving me."

Max looked at the vulnerability in his eyes. Zack, the strong, the leader…he was only ever vulnerable with her. It was her turn. "I think it's _exhausting_ lying to myself," she whispered. Then she leaned up and kissed him.

Their lips met in a soft, tentative caress. It was their first kiss. Twenty years in the making.

Zack closed his eyes, his hands slowly sliding up Max's arms. He brushed his lips over hers gently, tasting her upper lip first, then slowly sliding towards the lower one. He was right. She was soft and warm.

One arm started to wrap around her back, while the other one came to cup her nape, lightly threading his fingers through her hair, angling her head so he could deepen this kiss.

She ran her hands up his chest, then around his neck. She pulled them closer, her back arched towards him, and moaned softly.

Her slightly opened mouth gave him enough access to lightly run his tongue along the insides of her lips. She tasted good. He wanted more. Suddenly, he pulled her almost roughly up against him and held her tightly while he opened his mouth over hers, coaxing her to let him in.

She slid one leg around his and acquiesced, opening her mouth and letting his tongue plunge inside.

Max sucked on his tongue lightly, all the while waiting for her turn to taste him. The fingers that were caressing his hair suddenly became more insistent, pulling him down to her even more. She wanted this man like she had never wanted anyone in her life. She slipped a hand under his shirt, and felt the hard muscles react to her touch.

Then she laid her hand gently over his heart.

Tears burned her eyes and she broke the kiss. "I love you, Zack," she whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder, her hand still on his chest. She let her lips caress the column of his throat, tasting the salty sweat and tears. "I never said thank you for giving me your heart."

He tilted her chin up with thumb and forefinger. "It always belonged to you anyway," he whispered, and then leaned in to kiss her again.

The End.

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**A/N2: Hope that worked out. I know most people who read my stories are M/A…but…well, here's Max and Zack! HAHAHA! **


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